


Felt Familiar

by Upupanyway



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Gen, Kid facing ableism, Wherein they meet as kids, kids being kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 13:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20064850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Upupanyway/pseuds/Upupanyway
Summary: They grew up in Hell's Kitchen together. They've met before. They must have.





	Felt Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and plotless. Friendship fluff I guess.

The sun is high and happy. There are children playing on the concrete, laughing while they throw marbles, play hopscotch, or toss a tetherball back and forth. It's after school, and kids are playing because that's what kids do. There's a small basketball court behind the school and there's a small group of children picking teams. Matt isn't amongst the fray because he's blind.

It's stupid. He's only blind. It's not like he has cooties or anything. And yes, there's a lot of stuff he can't do because he's blind but that doesn't mean he can't catch and throw a ball around. 

Instead, he's sitting on the other side of the wire gate, on some steps to the side exit because the kids get weird when he tries to play with them.

The thing is, it would be okay if the volunteer leaders would just let him leave the school by himself. He was more than able to walk the five blocks home or the eight and a half to Fogwell's by himself. But his dad had signed his soul away by signing him up for after school activities.

He has half a mind to walk up to Melissa, the leader today, and ask if he can just leave. Kyle from yesterday was very stern, explaining that he was in charge of everyone and if kids started going missing, he'd be the one liba- liab- responsible. But he was only a sophomore in high school and still weak under the hand of authority. Melissa is a senior. She would probably understand.

Except she was currently plastering a bandaid onto Susie Feng's leg and talking her down from her crying hiccups, so it might take a while. So Matt waits, fiddling with his cane, because there's nothing else to do.

"We need evens!" he hears a voice cry, curt and demanding. Petulant. Some kid from the next school over that he doesn't recognize. "We can't have teams if you're gonna have seven!"

"We could always ask someone to join," another voice says diplomatically. Someone else who doesn't go to school here. A visitor. "what about him?"

"He's  _ blind _ , Frankie. He can't play basketball with us!" the first voice whines.

Frankie seems to consider this for a moment.

"Fine. Then I'll sit out so you can have evens," he decides.

"You don't have to do that," another kid defends.

"It's okay, Brett. I'll just be over there. Tell me if anyone wants to tag out."

There's an unhappy silence for a few seconds before the kids just shrug and start their game. Frankie, on the other hand is a steady weight on the pavement as he makes his way over to Matt.

Wordlessly, he sits down beside him. Matt doesn't say anything because he's not in the mood to be on some do-gooder's "kind deeds for the day" list.

"Hey. I'm Frankie. I noticed you sitting here alone. Are you diseased? Do you need friends?" Cutting. Straight to the point. Maybe not a do-gooder. Matt lets himself smile a little.

"No," he responds. "And maybe. Are you offering anything, Frankie?"

The figure hums a little, and he shuffles his feet around. "I don't know yet. Are you super mean or something?"

_ Sometimes _ . "No. I don't think so at least."

"Okay, then. We can be friends."

"Okay." It's too easy. It leaves Matt reeling.

"Wanna play something?"

"Like what?"

Frankie thinks for a second. A lot of playing for kids their age means running around with projectiles flying about. And teams. People don't tend to trust him with the former and the latter is a bit of a sore spot for Matt right now. All the time, actually.

So it's more then okay when Frankie says, "we could do twenty one questions?"

The first few are easy. Melissa. The school. Math class. Clouds. They go a little off the rails from there. Thurgood Marshall. The empty lot between 45th and 46th that might be haunted. The feeling of getting to eat an entire pizza by yourself but not being able to.

It's kinda nice to have someone to talk to, at least.

And then, like a blink, it's time to go. Matt had hardly even registered all the parents on their way towards them. The kids all get signed out, one by one.

"Want me to wait with you?" Frankie asks, holding onto a woman, his mother, probably. Matt's the last one there. It's not the first time. His dad's probably busy.

"You don't have to," he shrugs.

"But that means I get to hang out with you more. And the swings are finally free," he says easily. 

The woman turns between the pair of them. "Go ahead, I'll be right here."

Eventually, Frankie's mom signs Matt out because Melissa has to get back home. They could leave at any time. Except Frankie's watching Matt run across the field like he can trust his body. It's thrilling, to be able to run freely. Foggy sounds terrified as he narrates the obstacles for him. But it doesn't really matter because Matt figures he's a kid and even if he gets a little scuffed up, that's what kid bodies are for. He likes the feel of his tensing leg muscles under him and the feeling of wind. Not air as it moves, but as he moves through it.

"Stop! There's a pole coming up in a few yards!" Frankie yells with real fear in his voice. Matt does, tucking his legs under himself and rolling onto the grass. He's laughing with delight by the time the pole hits him, soft and slow, on his back.

He hears Frankie run up to him, an excited levity to his breathing, and he outstretches his hand.

"I'm reaching out my hand, by the way," he says.

Matt is still laughing when he grapples for it and topples Frankie on top of him.

They tumble together on the grass for a few moments as they let their breathing calm down from their incessant giggles.

"Frankie?" Frankie's mom calls to them from on top of the concrete stairs. "Your friend's dad is here! I think you boys ought to wrap up for the day!"

Frankie, still laughing on top of Matt, says, "okay, I think that means we gotta get going." That's what he says, but he doesn't move until Matt's shoving him off with a grin and standing up. He holds out a hand and Foggy takes it, shifting into an easy lean onto Matt's shoulder.

They walk up the steps together, and there's something that feels right about being beside each other.

"See you tomorrow!" Frankie says brightly. Then, he turns to Matt's dad and holds out a hand to shake. "Your son is mighty good friend material, sir." Frankie says it seriously, and Matt feels warm at him. His dad chuckles, a deep baritone sound, and thanks the boy.

When they part ways, his dad places an absent hand on Matt's shoulder. The touch is steady and happy. "He seems nice, Matty."

And Matt lets out the breath he was holding and smiles. "He is!" Matt beams. "His mom and dad are going to start a meat shop soon, and Frankie says we can come in anytime and we can try all the ham! You like ham, right, dad?"

-

The rest of the week is perfectly fine. School is boring, as usual, and Matt might get into a scuffle or two, but he has after school to look forward to.

When the bell rings at 3:00, Matt all but scrambles to his feel at runs to the gym for check in. And when he's done with check in, he waits patiently for the sound of Frankie's car (it sputters a little more than the rest of them, and the tires drag a little, like they need to be filled with more air) and then they play together for the two and a half hours until parents can pick everyone up.

Matt feels like he could get used to this. Having a friend who lets him play. (Once, he even shoved a basketball into Matt's hands and lined him up for a shot, much to his friend, Brett's wary contention. And miraculously, it went in in one shot, which was more than could be said about the rest of the players, so by default, Matt was King of the Court for the day, and that felt nice, too.)

On Friday, they part ways like usual, and the world explodes for Matt. Explodes in a back alley behind Fogwell's Gym, all over the grimy walls and concrete. And nothing is the same after that.

Matt forgets about Frankie, eventually. Between God and Stick and school, there isn't room for friends.

\--

Years and years later, when Matt gets accepted into law school and swings open the door to a life full of potential, when he's not guarded under the eyes of the nuns and Stick has irrevocably fucked off, he lets himself feel some excitement.

He can't place Foggy's voice at first, but there's a familiar tone to it that makes Matt feel at ease

"Matt? Matt Murdock? You don't happen to be from Hell's Kitchen, do you?"

He feels a flash of grass, vivid on his cheek for some reason.

"Born and raised," Matt smiles.

It's not until a few weeks in, until he hears Anna Nelson's voice mention a meat shop that it clicks into place.


End file.
